draft of unfinished poem

*

I believe I existed

as the blink of no one's eye

I woke unknown my face

familiarized only by sunglasses

by all the sun allows to follow me

like the shadow I am

the blink of no one's eye held me

for a mote moment

orchard articulate

rose wise

my eyelids were

carrion wafers

I was the blink of no one's eye

delighted to be the blink

of no one's eye under

so many eyelids or garage doors

pleistocene ferns burst from oiltruck vents as

I pull my old blood over me

and enter
the blink of no one's eye

///

draft/worksheets of unfinished poem

*
VISITED UPON

Throwing dice at the bomb as it descends

will not decide the outcome of your body blown

apart by which action, yours or the bombadier's:

drone missiles fly contraire, unmanned for the sake

of purity, not marred by the sordid human hand

wiping grease blood feces off its digits.  The muddied

moment passes and we move reinspired by

this vision of non-involvement, virginal

again from the shame that mercifully excludes us;

and therefore we leave it to the computer

to choose those targets whose distance ensures
our disinterest, its infant consequence

declares those boys' volleys of war a game
because as always the enemy's to blame:
the error inherent is theirs not ours to seek

or repent since its intent was innocence
aloft with the javelins of desire, that devastation  
visited upon the son's own weapons grown

scattergun shattering some backyard calm, saved
thanks to the prank-indulgence of childhood, each strike
shrived blameless by your aimless mother's 

wince, you know each target will forget this crime
the way you too have all but blanked out home;
forgive this day your father's arm its harm.

/

Throwing dice at the bomb as it descends

will not decide the outcome of your body blown

apart by which action, yours or the bombadier's:

drone missiles fly contraire, unmanned for the sake

of purity, not marred by the sordid human hand

wiping grease blood feces off its digits.  The muddied

moment passes and we move reinspired by

this vision of non-involvement, virginal

again from the crime that mercifully excludes us;

and therefore we leave it to the computer

to choose those targets whose distance ensures
[our disinterest, its infant consequence

declares those boys' volleys of war a game
because as always the enemy's to blame:
the error inherent is theirs not ours to seek/shirk/see]

or repent since its intent was innocence:
pray for the prank forgiveness[indulgence] of childhood, each strike
/thank the prank-indulgence of childhood, each strike
unbloodied/left harmless by your armless mother's wince.
made harmless/turned harmless/ poured harmless
/
or repent since its intent was innocence
thanks to the prank-indulgence of childhood, each strike
shrived harmless by your armless mother's 
wince, your father's perihelion apogee/trajectory.

/thanks to the pranks of childhood, each harmless strike
unbloodied by your armless mother's wince.

/thanks to the pranks of childhood, each stab or strike
stays harmless as your mother's armless wince.

[thanks to the pranks they forgave in childhood
when each stab or strike stood for bad or good
depending on adult indulgence, punishment pain ????]


/
[no taint is what our semaphore quests for

and therefore we leave it to the computer
to choose those targets whose distance ensures

our disinterest intent, each infant consequence
prank forgiven by your armored mother's wince.

[pray for the indulgence of childhood, each prank
forgiven by your armless mother's wince.]

[repent since/because innocence was this war's intent:
pray for the pure indulgence/forgiveness of childhood, each prank
forgiven/unbloodied by your armless mother's wince.]

... 
///

drafts/worksheets for unfinished poem

*
/
GASTRONEBULA (octosyllabics)

The cannibal's head up your ass   
and the angel's noggin gnawing  
its way down your esophagus
may meet someday in the midmost
of your hunger: and as their mouths
kiss there at that primal core where 
a black hole's born or an atom 
splits cold each time earth's rats and worms
devour our dust's ravenous quest
to taste the apple Eden lost,
will this lust find consummation
in the appetite to which it's grown
when the sun peels apart the one,
the only world you've nova known.

/

[title? Gourmet/Gastronebula/?]

the cannibal's head up your ass   
and the angel's noggin gnawing  
its way down your esophagus
may meet someday in the center
of your hunger and as their mouths
kiss there at that prime core where 
a black hole's born or an atom 
splits each time earth's rats and worms
devour your dust's ravenous quest
to taste an apple from edens past
will this lust find consummation
in the appetite to which it's grown
when the sun peels apart the one
the only world you've nova known

kiss there at that apt prime core where
/kiss there at that heartprime core where
/kiss there at that prime-whole core where
/kiss there at that prime-sole core where
/kiss there at that prime-old core where
a black hole's born or an atom
splits each time earth's own rats and worms
devour your dust's ravenous quest
to taste apples from edens past
/to taste an apple edens passed
/to taste an apple Eden passed
/to taste the apple Eden lost
/to taste an apple Eden lost
will this lust etc

/
for the taste of eden's apple will
/for the taste of eden apples will
/for the taste of appled edens will
this lust find some consummation
/
for the taste of eden's lust will this
find at last some consummation
in the appetite to which it's grown
when the sun peels apart the one
the only world you've nova known

/

[title?  Formulations?]

the cannibal's head up your ass   
and the clone's own noggin gnawing  
its way down your esophagus
may meet someday in the center

of your hunger for eden's apple
and as their lips kiss there at 
that prime core where a black hole's
born or an atom splits each time

rats and worms devour your dust
is this the physicist's[gourmet's/connoisseur's] lust for
climax orgasm consummation

and the appetite to which it's grown
when the sun peels apart the one
the only world you've nova known

/
[the cannibal's head up your ass   
and the clone's own noggin gnawing  
its way down your esophagus
may meet someday in the center
of your hunger and as their mouths
kiss there at that prime core where 
a black hole's born or an atom 
splits each time earth's rats and worms
devour your dust in a ravenous
quest for edenic apples will all
this lust find some consummation
as the appetite to which it's grown
when the sun peels apart the one
the only world you've nova known]

/
devour your dust in a ravening
quest for eden's apple will all
this lust find some consummation
in the appetite to which it's grown [etc

/
devour your dust in a ravening
quest for eden's apple will this lust
[devour your dust in ravin'd quest
for eden's apple will all this lust]
find some final consummation

/ the teleologist's  /  the eschatologist's 
/
and[or] the appetite by[to] which it's grown
[the appetite light by which it's shown]

/
the cannibal's head up your ass

and the neanderthal's noggin

gnawing its way down your

esophagus may meet someday

in the middle of your hunger but

as they kiss there at the core of

your thirst will their lovemaking

reflect that life that lust worms

and rats consume your dust with

shall all consummation resemble

the end of something illogical [the [disastrous] end of something's spiral]

the formula[appetite] by which it's grown

when the sun peels apart the one

the only world you've nova known

drafts/worksheets [unfinished

*

AS IT SAYS

as it says in the epitaphs
carved on whitecaps

each wave announces

another death

until the ocean agrees

hulk-deep 

drowned in its ear-coring shells  

to sail that bloodstream

that dream clinging

to the life raft of the body

held afloat by

the inner tube heart
the day to day boredom

whose undated incisions of spray
mourn every shore they beach
in order to prime our pores 

for cessation for ruin

because like the impetus of comets

to peel off heading nowhere

into their depths 

I die at my dire window and

time's orbital stats ejaculate me

until I too agree

that honesty must be

ragged and its linebreaks shall

curtal or hurl themselves out

alternative in thrusts

like bakers kneading lava like 

waves carving away my headland

predatoring all I pray and

who knows they might even

peninsulate the poem

/

*

I comb my crack with a lit fuse

My hairspray sticks to the gods

I cannot find you phrase of mind

(Devour is my favorite flower)

[Snow showing nothing but its normal nil]

Entering the Frankenstein Hall of Fame

Why did I pause in the foyer

To feast on those pajama trouser flies

Or get caught in the act of playing

Peerposssum on my clone's back

How did I let that embarrassment trap happen

[Still pranksters give my chair a hotfoot

Oh no you don't I cry preferring

My legs raw not fried/charred ... [

/

///

non sequitur

so if this Polish poet is, according to the first blurb for his book, like Ashbery and Graham and then perhaps (only perhaps) like me,

does that mean I have to read his book, or do I only have to perhaps read it:

https://www.boaeditions.org/bookstore/the-world-shared.html

...

 Okay, you're writing a blurb and you put Knott in the same sentence with Ashbery and Graham?

It just seems like some names don't belong in the same sentence together.

Painters Pablo Picasso, Georgia O'Keeffe, Walter Keane.

Actors Marlon Brando, Meryl Streep, Tab Hunter.

Novelists Philip Roth, Margaret Atwood, Erich Segal.

Poets John Ashbery, Jorie Graham, Bill Knott.

/// 

fa so la

http://sunylyons.bandcamp.com/track/bill-knott-and-the-wrong-heart

drafts/worksheets of unfinished poem

DECATOMBEAU

Such music must miss old requiem's mold;

Harps are at thumbs here in these realms of stone—

Their sound would only increase the unknown
Of a poet's name spelled out so threshold.

Gold measures our life sift in patient grams,
Numbering more graves aloft to obscure
The briefly shared poem where mourners endure
Their despair encore for whatever crams

Ten-digit verse.  And yet whose plot lingers

Less?  The terminal insistence of its
Limits to lament mislimns us loathed with

Any spitgrace traced after by fingers

Carving still-loom some epitaph that splits

No hushment held if this off rhyme reads: death.


/
Any spitgrace traced random by fingers
/Any spitgrace traced quantum by fingers
/Any spitgrace seldom [rarely/often/?] traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace aftertraced by fingers
/Any spitgrace traced after by fingers

/Any spitgrace maybe[perhaps/always] traced by fingers[,]

Any sculptured spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any chiseled spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any engraved spitgrace traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace perhaps traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace wouldbe traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace shame has traced by fingers
/Any spitgrace proclaimed/traced by fingers


/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams,
Which grift grander graves aloft to obscure
/
Grifting grander[greater] graves aloft to obscure
That briefly shared [patch?] where mourners endure
Their despair encore for each poem that crams
/
That brief interment where mourners endure
That briefly spared space where mourners endure
Each brief interment
/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams
Which grift grander graves aloft to obscure
The briefly shared poem where mourners endure
Their despair encore for whatever crams

Whatever brief clearing/hearing mourners endure
Their despair encore for that poem that crams
/A brief interment where mourners endure
/Briefer interments where mourners endure
/
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
Spotplotch burials where mourners endure
Despair encore for whatever poem crams
/
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
His poor interment where mourners endure
/
Gold numbers our life sift in patient grams,
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
Each brief interment where mourners endure
Despair encore for whatever poem crams
/One briefly shared patch where mourners endure
Their despair encore for each poem that crams



/
His ten-nought verse./ His ten-wrought verse./ His ten-terse verse. /Ten-digit verse./ A tencount /tenscore verse./ A tenscored verse./ A counted verse./ Counted line verse./ A Knottcount verse. /A noughtcount verse./His nought-count verse./His ten-thump verse./His ten-shot verse. /A ten-wrought verse./ A ten-drab/ ten-sculpt/ ten-most / Countersculpt verse. /  Countercept verse./ Countermost/ Counterfirst/ Heircounted verse./ Countermore verse./ His counted verse./  Syllabic verse. / [the syllabic poet entombed in his count; ten thumps of the shovel to pat down the line; .... ] Countermade / countermode / countersheer / countershare/ counterspare/ counterpared/ counterpaired/ Paircounted verse./ Sharecounted/ Queercounted/ Quarecounted/ Quantcounted/ A tencount verse/
Croachcounted/ Clipcounted/ Thudcounted/ Groundcounted/Clodcounted/ Sheercounted verse.
Miscounted verse. / Your counted verse./

[Ten thumps of the spade to tamp down the line
Of your decadent verse, syllabic swine.
A tombful of sounds is all you've enkoined.]

/ A cross spot space where mourners [?] endure]
[The briefest portal where mourners endure]
[What space spares portal where mourners endure]
[Briefly spared portals where mourners endure]
[Share's briefly spared tomb where mourners endure]
Grifting greater graves aloft to obscure
Our briefly heired tomb where mourners endure
Their despair encore for that poem that crams
Everyone's verse.

The poor patch spared here where mourners endure

/ Grifting even grander graves to encroach
/Grifting grander graves up there[aloft] to encroach/ensnare [enshade [shadow
Our briefly spared space where mourners approach/may share [may spade [hallow/follow
Their despair encore for that poem that crams

Everyone's verse.  etc

/
Grifting more highrose slablocks to encroach
This briefly spared space where mourners approach
To despair encore for that poem that crams

/
Grifting grander graves aloft to swallow
This briefly spared space where mourners thrallow
Their despair etc

[The briefest aporia/portal where mourners endure]

/
Grifting grander graves aloft to obscure
This briefly spared space where mourners endure
Their despair encore for that poem that crams 

/
Grifting those grander towers that encroach
/Grifting even grander graves to encroach
This briefly spared space where mourners approach
/This spared space across which mourners approach
To despair encore for that poem that crams

Her every verse.  etc

/
Grifting those gridlock towers that encroach
Grifting more highrose slablocks to encroach
This briefly spared space where mourners approach

/

Grifting those babel[stable/libeled/tabled/fabled/gabled/?] towers that encroachThis spared space across which sculptors approach

To despair encore for that poem that crams

/

This music must miss that requiem mold;

Such music must miss old requiem's mold;

My requiem may miss last music's mold;

This requiem may miss last music's mold;

Stay requiem amass that last songmold/ tonguemold;

Requiem mass for its last musicmold;

Can requiem surpass this music's mold;

The old tunes have entered their musicmold

This wall clangs silent the noise of growing old;

To whom was this wall sole-silent foretold;

For someone this wall was always foretold—

His mark is a wall still silent and cold;

This wall silences the noise of growing old;

May requiem amass last music mold;

//Any caption/caprise/reprise/surmise still traced by fingers/Carving stare-loom some epitaph that splits /Carving bare-loom some epitaph that splits/Carving bare loomed some epitaph that splits/ Any grace face that can be traced by fingers / Carved still in loom an epitaph that splits /No hushment left if this off rhyme reads death. /Carved still in loom some epitaph that splits  /No silence left if this off rhyme read death.

/No hushment held if this off rhyme read death.

/No hushment held if this off rhyme read: death.

/No hushment held if this off rhyme reads: death.

//For ultimate vertigo/catch-let-go in what crams/This spared space parsive syllables approach  /For that versus catch-and-let-go that crams  /This spared space where whiched/ditched syllables approach  /Their ultimate[rigorless/layabout] vertigo in what crams /Their layabout grandeur/certitude/energy in what crams

/Their desolate/vertigo/vertiginous despair in what crams /A vertiginous despair in what crams

/An intimate vertigo in what crams  / This spared space whose [....] boundaries/signories/signatories approach
/signeurials / walls— lintels . ceilings corner cornices / cornerstones / cornerfolds / corner /This spared space whose cornercapers approach tame /  same /  harm / 

//His tomb is a wall sole-silent and cold—/For whom is this wall sole-silent and cold— /A wall is his sole tomb, faceless and cold— /His sole tomb is a wall faceless and cold—His tomb is a wall sole silent and cold

/ This place brings a stop to the throes of getting old.   /  Host lost is this wall sole-silent and cold;  / 

 //

//Harps are all harm here in this home of stone /Harps are shown harm here in this home of stone.  /Harps are all thumbs here amid realms of stone:  /Harps are thumbless here, in this realm of stone.  /Harps are hurt thumbs here over realms of stone:  /Harps are all thumbs here in this realm of stone:  /Harps are confound here in thumbed realms of stone.  /Harps are for thumbs here in these realms of stone: //

/This space across which no sculptors approach

The despair encore of that poem that crams

Their every verse.  And yet whose plot lingers

More?  The terminal insistence of its

Limits to lament claims us loathened with

/

This spared space where no sculptor dare approach

Despair encore of that lost poem that crams

/ Their every verse.  And yet whose plot lingers

More?  The terminal insistence of its
Limits to lament outclaims our loathe with

///